by Sheryl Lynn
Reb wondered if Joey realized he could have lost the ranch to creditors if he’d inherited instead of Emily. Or if Joey realized his sister used her personal funds to keep this outfit afloat.
Troubled and beginning to feel like a low-down, belly-crawling sneak, he turned his attention to the desk. On top was a letter Emily had begun. In small, neat handwriting on lilac stationery she had written:
Dear Sharon,
I miss you so very much and if I can ever get ahead here, I’d love to take you up on your offer to visit. I miss the gang, but you most of all. I even miss Kansas City, humidity and all. Every morning around ten o’clock I still get the urge to pour a big cup of tea, extra sugar and milk, and spill my guts to you. Did I ever tell you that when Daniel was driving me nuts with his constant go, go, go and talking all the time, you were the only thing keeping me sane? I loved him so much, but he never listened! I wish you were here to talk to now. I could sure use a pal. I have made a friend, sort of. He’s a cowboy my brother hired. He’s very nice and polite, and cute, too. More than worthy of one of your “hunk alerts.” His name is Reb, isn’t that sexy? Am I a bad person for thinking about another man so soon after Daniel? When I’m with Reb, I don’t think about Daniel at all. (Not with him in the biblical sense, silly girl! I know what you’re thinking!) It’s kind of embarrassing, but every time Reb is around, I start talking. I’m starting to think he’s a psychiatrist incognito. I go on and on, worse than Daniel even. But it’s good being able to say what’s on my mind without starting a big fight, and he’s so very sweet.
Conscience ripped through Reb like a lightning bolt. He replaced the letter where he’d found it and stepped back, hands on his hips, his jaw aching with tension.
Sweet. Nice.
He wasn’t nice, he never had been nice and he had no intention or desire to ever be nice. Nice wasn’t in his job description.
Chapter Six
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Joey demanded as he strode across the driveway. Gravel crunched under his boot heels. His eyes snapped with dark fury.
Seated inside Joey’s old pickup truck, Emily pulled the key out of the ignition. Holding both hands on the steering wheel, she watched her brother’s approach. Red-faced, fists clenched, knees stiff, Joey looked as if he meant to start swinging.
His blank, bulging eyes made him look so much like Tuff that fear paralyzed her. Common sense shouted at her to start up the pickup and escape. Her hands were clenched, white knuckled and aching, on the steering wheel. A key cut into her palm.
He jerked open the passenger door. Metal groaned and the truck rocked. “Get out of my truck!” His voice cracked. “You leave my stuff alone! I don’t ever want you touching my truck! Nobody said you could drive it. Get out!” He grabbed her arm. His fingers dug between her biceps, and the pain snapped her into action.
“Joey! You’re hurting me!” She slapped at his hand with the heavy ring of keys.
He tightened his grip cruelly and grabbed at the keys. Reb stepped behind Joey, caught the young man by the upper arms and hauled him away from the truck. Joey shouted, “Hey!” dropping his hold on Emily and kicking frantically. His boots clanged against the truck and flung gravel. Emily scrambled backward, dropping the keys onto the floorboard. Reb wrestled Joey to the side and kicked his feet out from under him. Joey hit the dirt with a thud and a cloud of dust. His good gray felt hat went skidding across the driveway.
Reb’s eyes were steel; his expression was deadly calm as if knocking around an enraged cowboy was merely business as usual. He loomed over Joey.
“You stay out of this!” Joey shouted, and hoisted himself to a crouch. There he hesitated. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“I just made it my business.”
“I’m not scared of you,” Joey growled through his teeth. He made no move to rise.
Reb’s fingertips twitched as if telling Joey to come on, get up and fight.
Emily supressed a sob, and her chest ached with the effort. She’d seen Joey angry many times, but never like this. Never had she considered she might need to fear him physically. She eased out of the truck, feeling carefully for footing. Looking between both men, she sidled away from the truck.
“I’m sorry, Joey,” she said. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“That truck is all I have. You’ve got no call to—”
“She put new tires on it, knucklehead,” Reb said. “Look at them.”
While Joey’s expressive face ran the gamut of emotions from anger to surprise to suspicion before finally settling on wary sheepishness, Emily thought her heart would break. “They were on sale. I know you needed them…and you work so hard and I know you wouldn’t take the money, so I thought I’d…surprise you.”
Her brother cast a cautious glance at Reb before slowly rising. Always keeping an eye on the bigger man, he fetched his hat and swiped away the dust. “I can’t afford brand-new tires…”
“They’re a gift, free and clear. All I wanted was to see you smile.” Emily gathered her purchases and the school information she’d picked up in Grand Junction and trudged to the house.
Only when she was safely inside did she allow herself to feel the inner and outer pain. She lifted her left arm and studied the darkening bruises. If not for Reb, Joey surely would have struck her. Then what? She couldn’t live trapped between the threat of Tuff getting out of jail and Joey prowling around the house looking for an excuse to trounce her.
“Ma’am?” Reb stood on the other side of the screened door. He held his hat in both hands. “Are you all right? May I come in?” He entered before she could answer.
She dashed away hot tears building in her eyes. “Now isn’t a good time.” A lie—she wanted very much for him to come into the kitchen and let her fall into his strong arms. She wanted his husky voice soothing her, talking away her fear. “I’m all right, but I need to get supper started. I’m running late, so would you tend the cow for me? Put a cup of dried molasses in her feed.”
“I’ll talk to Joey.”
Tempting, but then the problem wouldn’t go away; it would only go into hiding until Reb went away. “Thank you for your concern, but it’s between me and Joey.” Tears rose faster than she could avert her face. Clapping both hands over her mouth did little to choke down the sobs.
Reb enfolded her in his arms. She let loose a wail and clutched his shirt while he stroked her hair.
“I can’t live like this,” she whispered between hitching sobs. “I’m scared all the time, and I don’t know what to do and I don’t know who to turn to. It’s awful enough him shutting me out and giving me the cold shoulder and blaming me for everything that goes wrong. I love him so much, but I can’t be afraid of him, too. I can’t.”
Reb swayed gently, rocking her, soothing her. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, waiting for the sobs to subside. By virtue of size alone he offered comfort.
She reached for a roll of paper towels. Reb released her. She turned her back on him while she blew her nose and wiped her hot, sticky face.
He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t know how to tell him I’m sorry,” she said, her throat sore from crying. “I was so young. I didn’t mean to desert him and make him think I don’t care. I was only a kid and I was hurting.” She tossed the paper towels into the garbage can, then tore two more off the roll. “I love him, Reb, I do. But he’s breaking my heart.” She searched Reb’s face—and found compassion. “I’ll work this out with him. Somehow.”
“Are you all right?”
She wondered if she’d ever be all right. Through the screened door she could see Joey’s truck, but not Joey. Most likely he was hiding out in the barn. “I need to get to work on supper.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“I can’t earn his respect secondhand.” On impulse she thrust out her hand, reaching for Reb.
He grasped her hand, and they entwined their fingers. She searched his ki
nd, handsome face, wishing he would hold her again. An expression akin to pain tightened his features, and a low noise rumbled deep in his chest. He pulled her to him and grasped the back of her neck, snatching her against his body. He kissed her. Hard.
The erotic possessiveness of his hands melted her joints. She clutched at his back. His mouth captured hers with bruising force. Greedy for the sensation of his slippery tongue and intoxicating taste, she met him with equal vigor, pressing the full length of her body against his. Fires ignited, filling her veins with liquid heat.
She suckled his lower lip, and his late-day beard rasped her chin. He smelled of hot sun and vibrant masculinity. He tasted wet and fresh like rainwater.
He released her hand, but tightened his hold on the back of her neck. She touched his hip, splaying her fingers in tentative exploration along the rough fabric seam of his jeans. He brought his hand to her face, and his touch turned tender against her cheek while the thrust of his tongue teased and tantalized, stoking her inner fires.
Breaking the kiss, she gasped. He caught the front of her throat in a wet, lusty kiss, and his teeth raked deliciously across sensitive skin. Her knees threatened to collapse.
Lifting his head, he gazed upon her through eyes gone dark and heated. All that showed of his irises were thin, electric blue rings surrounding smoldering pupils. He slid his hands down her neck to her shoulders. His fingers tightened. His thumbs caressed her collarbones.
Her heart thudded; all other sounds were muffled and far away. The heat of the kitchen was nothing compared to the fires inside. She panted softly through her mouth.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he said in a voice so soft it barely reached her.
“I’m not,” she whispered back. An urge to add Come to me tonight was so overwhelming she had to close her eyes to keep from saying it aloud. Holding back the words gave her an unfulfilled ache.
He turned her loose and headed for the door.
“Reb.”
He stopped with his hand flat on the screened door. His shoulders twitched.
“You aren’t taking advantage of me or anything. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. I know what I want. At least, I think I do.” She fingered her lower lip, and it was engorged, still tingling from his kiss.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She wanted to tell him he touched her with his kindness and his strength. She didn’t know if that was a basis for a relationship, but it felt like one and if he thought so, too, then nothing stood in their way.
While conflicting thoughts and emotions held her silent, Reb slipped out of the house. When the screened door slapped softly against the jamb, she sighed and absently wiped at her hot face.
Staying busy was her only cure for misery, so she dived into cooking supper. Her thoughts kept drifting to the bunkhouse and the narrow iron-framed bed where Reb slept. He slept naked, she guessed, or perhaps in his underwear. Either way, pictures in her head of his hard, gorgeous body gave her periodic chills.
While she was frying chopped beef for chili, Joey crept into the kitchen. His hat was pulled down low on his forehead, his hands were jammed into his jeans pockets and his shoulders were hunched. Her back muscles crawled, growing taut along her spine.
“Emmy?”
The childhood nickname opened a floodgate inside her chest, spilling painful emotion. She wanted to run to him and gather him in her arms. She stirred the frying meat; the spoon clanged against the cast-iron pot.
“I’m sorry for grabbing at you. I’m—I’m ashamed of myself. I had no call.”
That’s all right, hovered on her tongue. But it wasn’t all right, and if she said so, it never would be all right.
“You can’t ever do that again, Joey. Not ever, not for any reason.” She set the spoon aside and faced him. “I know you don’t think I love you, but I do. I want the best for you. But I won’t accept threats—or abuse of any kind.”
SUPPER PROVED surprisingly tame, outwardly at least. Except for a few troubled glances and excruciatingly polite pleases and thank-yous, Joey ignored Emily. He talked to Reb about Denver and the cattle sale.
Emily managed to not embarrass herself with Reb, but awareness of him left her feeling sticky and unbalanced inside. It was as if their kiss had left behind an aura or shadow, a lingering psychic scent trail. Having him so close stripped the air from her lungs, making every breath a chore. Each time he looked her way, she craved another touch.
Having Claude Longo arrive at the back door was almost a relief. The old cowboy entered the kitchen with a bandy-legged swagger and a gleam in his eyes. Emily resisted the urge to stand even taller so she could look down on him; it would only make him act more obnoxious.
“Hello, Claude,” she said. “You’re just in time for coffee and pie.”
“Cream and sugar in the mud, and ice cream on that pie, girl.” Claude clapped Joey’s shoulder in passing and nodded a friendly greeting at Reb. He took Emily’s chair at the head of the table.
He’s old, she reminded herself, set in his ways.
Claude slapped onto the table a thick sheaf of papers bound with a rubber band. “Receipts, expenses, invoices, checks. All here. I’m tired as a hound dog after a bear hunt, but I’ll go over this with you, girl. Step-by-step, so you know I’m honest.” His taut grin dared her to say a single word refuting his honesty.
She bit back a sharp retort and forced a smile. “I’m sure everything is in order.”
He patted his shirt pocket. “I cut my own check.” His eyes narrowed in challenge. “You want to look at it?”
“No need.” Catching a questioning look in Reb’s eyes, she was embarrassed. No doubt he was wondering what kind of wimp she was. She hurried through serving pie and coffee, then grabbed the paperwork and made her escape upstairs.
She tossed the papers onto her desk, then unzipped her jeans and worked them off her hips and legs. She reached for a pair of shorts on the foot of the bed, and froze. The bed didn’t look quite right. Cocking her head this way and that, she studied the way the bedspread was tucked under the pillows.
Goose bumps rose on her arms and across her shoulders. Turning a slow circle, she felt it. Someone had been in her bedroom. Someone had touched her belongings.
No doubt when Joey got home and found his truck missing, he’d come in here seeking revenge. She hurried to the closet and tore open the door. A quick scan of the hanging clothes told her they’d been moved. She’d always been organized and efficient; disorder made her a little crazy. Even though her clothing was hanging okay, it wasn’t exactly right. She grabbed her jewelry box off the shelf and opened it. To her relief, nothing was missing.
She pulled on the shorts. When she sat down before the desk, she knew it had been touched, too. Nothing missing, nothing horribly out of place and if she weren’t so neurotic about everything being just so, she’d never notice. Seeing she’d left the unfinished letter to Sharon out in full view made her cringe. So now Joey knew she had a crush on Reb.
Marvelous.
She set to work on the papers from the sale. It relieved her to see Claude had already countersigned the checks over to her. They’d received a good price for the cattle. Barring catastrophe, the proceeds would bring all the current bills up-to-date. Armed with a calculator and an eye for detail, she checked Claude’s figures. He’d miscalculated the net profit by eighteen hundred dollars and shorted his own bonus by ninety-five. He’d forgotten Reb’s sale bonus completely.
Head figuring! If it didn’t mean hours of extra work and a few long-distance phone calls to double-check figures, it would be funny.
It took her all evening and most of the next morning to get the paperwork straightened out. When Joey and Reb appeared for lunch, she handed Joey an extra check along with the envelope holding deposits for the bank.
He held the check in both hands and scowled at it. “What are you giving me a check for?”
“It’s not for you. Ninety-five dollars of it goes to Claude. He shorted hims
elf, and I don’t feel like getting into a shouting match with him over his math. I don’t care what you tell him, make up a story, but give him his money.” She flashed an apologetic smile at Reb. “The rest is Reb’s bonus. Claude forgot, I guess.”
Color rose from Joey’s neck, up and over his cheeks. Even his ears burned with a fiery blush.
“Joseph, you forgot, too?” Emily rolled her eyes.
Reb peered suspiciously at her. “Bonus?”
“It’s a Double Bar R tradition,” she said. “When cattle are sold, hands get a bonus. It’s not much, but it’s a way of saying thanks for the extra work. I’ll give you your regular pay in cash, too, if you want. That way you don’t have to hassle with the bank.”
“I guess I did forget, Reb,” Joey mumbled, tucking the check into the envelope. “It’s been a while since we’ve had hired hands.”
“Claude forgot, too, and he’s got no excuse. We have to face the truth. He’s seventy-six years old.”
“You can’t fire him,” Joey whispered. Stricken, eyes wide, he looked about six years old. “This is his home. He’s as much part of the ranch as Hannah Peak.”
“I am not going to fire him or get into a fight to make him quit or anything. For as long as he wants it, this is his home.” Her jaw tensed uncomfortably. Claude was another legacy from her grandfather. “But I can’t let him take care of the bookkeeping anymore. He makes math errors. He forgets to file papers. He wants to fight with the IRS and the landmanagement people even when he’s in the wrong.”
“Claude’s the manager. He’s supposed to do the paperwork.”
“Not anymore.”
Joey pushed back his chair. “I can’t tell Claude you’re taking over his job! No way! He’s the manager—”